


Blade Dance

by Lewdsmokesoldier



Category: League of Legends
Genre: F/M, Impregnation, Light Dom/sub, Mildly Dubious Consent, Power Play, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-16
Updated: 2019-11-16
Packaged: 2021-01-30 06:48:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21423955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lewdsmokesoldier/pseuds/Lewdsmokesoldier
Summary: Katarina Du Couteau does not suffer fools gladly. So why does she endure one man’s brash disrespect?Because there’s no way she could dick that good otherwise.
Relationships: Katarina Du Couteau/Original Character(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 25





	Blade Dance

**Author's Note:**

> OC has art that can be seen [here!](https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/461900274651496449/641748543371214849/image0.jpg)
> 
> Hey look it's League of Legends, who'd have guessed?
> 
> Not me, fuck that game. Fuck Riot. Free the Uighurs, free Tibet, etc.
> 
> I'm also on [twitter](https://twitter.com/Lewdsmoke), which sucks too.

Every duel started the same.

She walked onto the sparring grounds and grit her teeth. He was there again, like he always ways, the bastard. Showing off like he was so much better than everyone else, practicing when he _knew_ he didn’t need to. She’d have been impressed by his determination if it didn’t piss her off so much.

Caius of House Siegfried was a model citizen of Noxus, putting duty before self without sacrificing ambition, blending patriotic jingoism with practical realism. He could have been anything in Noxus—an influential showman with his talent for grandstanding, a politician with his sharp tongue, a scholar with his attention to detail, or a siege engineer with his talent for simplifying problems. But instead, he’d found his role and his place in Noxus as a knight, a shock trooper in the Empire’s armies, and he fit the image of such a man well.

Yes, Caius was a good Noxian, and that was precisely why Katarina du Couteau couldn’t stand him. If he’d been a boorish man, driven by shallow-minded greed and lechery, then it’d be easier to dismiss him as another knuckle-dragger looking to brute-force his way into the leather pants of Marcus du Couteau’s daughter. If he’d been excessively self-interested, it’d be easier to toss aside his attention as a means to his own advancement.

And since he fit none of those categories, he defied explanation, and Katarina _hated_ him for it.

She hated the little swagger in his shoulders when he swung at the dummy that told her that he wasn’t putting his full weight behind the blow, even as the stuffing inside the target spilled out with each slice of his weapon.

She hated the way he cocked his eyebrow after every joke or lewd comment, as if her failure to laugh was a mark against her sense of humor and not his own.

She hated the way he always talked down to her whenever she lost, as if it could only be expected that he’d be her better no matter how many times she beat him.

And, most of all, Katarina hated how she kept coming back to him for more of it. That wasn’t why she was here now, but it might as well have been: nobody else would be in the sparring hall this time of night besides Caius. She’d known that he would be here when she showed up, tense and taut and eager to fight, and he had to have known that she’d come around here when he’d decided to exercise.

They weren’t lovelorn teenagers from one of those sappy romances, chasing each other with sighs and nonsense. Instead, they covered up the subtleties of their interactions with invectives.

“Look who it is,” she sneered, tossing a knife in the air and letting it hit the floor with a _thunk_. The pommel bounced off the polished wood, twirling up from the force of her throw to land back in her hand. Caius turned away from the object of his focus, weapon held high as if he still might strike down with it. The hanging lamps made his yellow hair shine, reflecting off of its natural brightness and the sheen of his gold-leafed black plate. “Trying to light up the room all on your own, are you? It looks like that armor’s nice and shiny, which means you’re not using it for much more than parading.”

“At least I’m actually _fighting_,” Caius returned, weapon at the ready as he took his place on the other side of the dueling ring. For all his bluster, he was breathing a little heavily, the white trim on his rouge cloak lifted off the ground as he bent his shoulders. Sweat dotted his brow, and she held back a grin. She had an advantage. “We both know why you came down here.”

“To kick your ass?” She unsheathed her other blade and spread her stance. Caius could do a lot, but he could never match her speed, and he was already tired. She had this, and she wasn’t scared of the little sparks he liked to pretend were magic. Her sister’s drool was more dangerous than the glows he added to his weapons.

As if in response to her thoughts, Caius stroked the blade of his bardiche, smirking as the steel began to shine. “Not quite.”

The metal turned a deep red, and Katarina frowned as he readied his weapon. Anyone who liked one color _that_ much was an insecure asshole.

* * *

_Their first duel had nearly killed them both._

_Noxians did not practice with blunted or dulled weapons once they reached a certain age or rank. If techniques could be maintained without the threat of injury or even death, then complacency took hold and the warrior was setting themselves up for failure on the battlefield. Better to risk an accident, or even an “accident”, than fail the Empire when it needed them._

_Katarina came down from on high, spinning in a corkscrew before straightening her leg to put all her force in her heel. If she timed it like she knew she had, the hardest part of her foot would come crashing down on the back of this impudent young knight’s skull as he stayed bent from an overhead swing, concussing him at the very least and damaging the brain if she hit too hard. She wasn’t sure what would be “too hard”, but she always did enjoy pushing limits...especially if they weren’t hers._

_So when a hand, rough and strong, grabbed her ankle out of the air, she couldn’t help but yelp and kick out with her other foot, trying to dislodge the grip her opponent had on her limb. He refused to let go, using her speed against her as he slammed her into the ground behind him, turning as he went._

_Her back hit the floor with a powerful _thud_ and Katarina felt the wind shocked out of her lungs. Her chest ached and her head swam, mind unfocused and dizzy from the rush of blood and lack of oxygen, but she couldn’t relax. Not yet, anyway, since her foe was moving with the momentum of his hold on her to bring his weapon down right on her midsection. If she gave herself time to breath, to regain her thoughts and act accordingly, she be sliced in two horizontally across the bellybutton. So instead, she didn’t think: she simply _did_, kicking to the side with the leg her opponent was grabbing to force their arm into the path of the oncoming blade. She enjoyed a half-second of imagining the look on their face when they sliced off their own hand—how their blue eyes would well up in tears and red rage and how their pointed chin would scrunch up with their sobbing—but she didn’t get the satisfaction._

_An onlooker intervened, sticking out their spear haft to block the bardiche, the edge sinking into the metal and nearly cutting it all the way through in one go. The slight resistance the material offered gave her opponent enough leverage to slow their strike, leaving everyone unharmed. Save for the spear, of course, which remained bent where he’d hit it. _

_Normally, such interference was frowned upon. But when it came from their commanding officer, they knew better than to rebuke it._

_“Slice each other to pieces whenever you want,” they scolded the duelists as if they were naughty children rather than adults about to kill each other, “but do it when we _don’t_ have a major offensive tomorrow. I’m going into battle with everyone intact and that means no injuries.”_

_Katarina and her opponent grumbled but complied and disentangled. He offered her a hand to lift her up—the same hand she’d nearly gotten him to cut off—and she smirked and stood up without him. “I’ll consider that a victory.”_

_“Were it not for them, I’d have sliced you in half.” He jabbed, scowling, the glint in his eyes telling her that he was having far too much fun with all this._

_“Were it not for them, you’d have lost a forearm.”_

_“Are you a little girl, then, to rely upon your betters to save you?”_

_She looked him up and down. He was a haughty enough sort, equipped and built such that she knew he was the breeding of a noble house. But he didn’t throw up a facade of exaggerated bravado on a foundation of privilege. She got the sense that he truly _did_ believe that he was the best. He was certainly handsome, such that even if the armor disguised his body, his thin, edgelike cheekbones and tapered chin gave him an aura of allure that she would have loved if it wasn’t attached to such a self-confident braggadocio._

_“I’m not a little girl, and if that didn’t prove that to you, then I’ve got a few ideas about what will.”_

_He smiled, then, a suave grin that told her that he knew _exactly_ what she was talking about, and she tried not to let her interest show. _

_“Sir Caius, of House Siegfried.”_

_“You know my name already.”_

_“Then I suppose I’ll have to learn some other things about you to make up the difference, Katarina.” His grin widened and he waggled his eyebrows such that there was no mistaking his intention. She would have hated how smug and certain he tried to come off as if he wasn’t exactly right._

* * *

Every duel ended the same.

It didn’t matter who won, who got thrown to the sparring floor in an exhausted heap, worn and bruised and scratched but never injured. Whether it was Caius being brought to the ground by the weight of his armor while his legs failed or Katarina being thrown face-down, stunned and leaden with exhaustion, things always resolved in the same fashion.

Sometimes, they had the restraint to get themselves to their barracks before they fell on each other. Sometimes they didn’t, and went at it right there in the training room, confident that no one would use it for the few minutes they needed. Or the few hours, if it came to that.

If Katarina won, she might rip away his armor and tear his undershirt to ribbons in her quest to run her fingers along his chest and stomach, to feel the marks where she’d struck him and watch him wince when she pressed down on fresh bruises. She might grind her slit against his face, riding his chin and pressing the back of his head into the ground hard enough for the wood to creak while he acquiesced and worked her with his tongue and lips. When at last she pulled away, leaving his mouth coated with her cum, she might snap his belt with a blade or her finger, fish out his dick, and bounce on his cock while he lay there helplessly. Or she might do any other number of things to him, well confident that this time, he was _hers_ to exploit.

But that was only when she was victorious. If Caius won, then he got to do what _he_ wanted to her, and he made good use of his time whenever he got the chance. And it seemed like that was the way things were going tonight.

“I have the upper hand this time, dear.” Caius chuckled and unlatched the plates of his armor, dropping his poleaxe. A solid blow to her forehead with the haft of the weapon had left Katarina reeling, enough for him to sweep her legs out from under her and snatch her knives out of her grasp. She’d submitted then, shins sore and head throbbing, and the victor was taking his time to gloat. “Seems like it’s my turn to get what I want.”

She flashed a scowl in his direction, “I’ll get you next time.”

“I’m sure you will. But at the moment, you're the loser.” Caius pulled up his undershirt, tossing it aside and unbuckling his belt. “Time to pay up.”

“Jerk.” Katarina didn’t resist, though, when he spread her legs and hooked his finger into the waistband of her leggings, pulling down the material hugging her thighs past her knees and ankles until her lower half was bare. _Truly_ bare, to his surprise, if his pause was any indication: Katarina had foregone panties today.

“My, my. What have we here?.” He mused aloud, shoving his index finger indelicately between her legs to plunge into her slit. When she hissed and tightened her thighs he laughed, reaching out to pull her top apart. With her arched back putting pressure on the leather, it didn’t take much for her breasts to pop free, swinging and jostling from being constrained for so long, her nipples already hard and peaked atop her tits. “You didn’t happen to have this outcome in mind when you ‘stumbled’ across me, now did you?”

“Shut up.” Katarina squirmed, trying not to flush too hard at the sensation of his thick digit pumping and stroking. Every tremble of her lip, every jiggle in her thigh threatened to reveal just how right he was. He was smug and spurned her power wherever he could, and Katarina hated herself for loving it.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Caius punctuated his words by pulling down his undershorts and letting his dick slap against her slit, the head of the shaft rubbing against her clit as he withdrew his finger. The shimmer on his skin told him everything he needed to know, but Katarina was too busy steeling herself for that monster of a cock that was throbbing against her cunt. She’d been stuffed with it enough times to know that it’d stretch her pussy around its girth, as much a struggle as it was her utter joy. She also knew just how much cum those fat, thick balls resting against her taint could pump into her, and tried not to whimper at the idea of being flooded with Caius’s cum yet another time.

“If you’re going to fuck me, just get it over with. Unless you’re all talk?” She tried not to sound too excited, hoping that the rise in her voice communicated taunting more than anticipation. She had no idea why he had such a commanding hold of her mind, but she didn’t care. She just wanted his dick and he knew it.

“_I’m_ the one making the decisions here. But lucky for you, it seems like our interests align.” Caius pushed his fingers towards her mouth, making her suck her own squirt while he lined the head of his dick up to her cunt. “Next time, just tell me that you want my cock, alright? It’ll save the both of us a lot of trouble”

She would’ve responded, but the sour taste of his fingers and her own arousal cut her off, and when he shoved his dick between her folds with one fell swoop, hilting himself in one go so that his nuts slapped her ass, Katarina couldn’t help but moan around the intrusion.

He laid into her hard and fast, shoving his cock in and out with sharp, rough grunts, removing his fingers to give her space to moan and kick her legs out behind him. Her hair dragged against the wood, shifting forward and back with the movements of the man above her, tits jiggling and wobbling from the force of his fucking. With his hands on her face and waist, gripping and holding to give himself leverage to lay into her, Caius let all of the energy he’d built up from their sparring spill over into fucking Katarina as thoroughly as he could.

There was something...liberating about being at his mercy. Katarina was used to controlling her environment, having people at her beck and call if they even knew she was there, so to be restrained from making those choices felt in and of itself like a form of freedom. She didn’t have to manage anything, just enjoy what was offered and follow the instructions she was given.

She despised it. She despised feeling weak and used and _submissive_, and she despised how when Caius made her feel like that, she enjoyed it a little more each time. His tall, broad form loomed over her, cradling her even as his hips swung back and forth in a flurry, leaving her quaking and jittery from the thick dick being forced into her over and over. Her cunt was throbbing with want, and she ached to reach a hand down to work her clit and scarlet bush while he fucked her, but she didn’t have the space...and he likely wouldn’t give her the chance for satisfaction.

When Caius hissed and dug his fingers into her cheek and tit, squeezing the skin and soft breast beneath his palm, Katarina knew he was close. If he kept it up just a bit longer, worked her just a little more, grinding and rubbing his cock all along her inner walls, she might…

He smashed into her, holding his dick in as deep as it would go, his balls pressing insistently on her asscheeks. The rush of his cum inside of her was fast and sudden, a flash flood of spunk that was filling her with rapid, pulsing warmth.

“Not inside, you idiot!” She shrieked, but any further protests were cut off when he leaned down to press his lips against hers, muffling her cry with a rough kiss. The blossoming heat and pressure of his eruption inside of her and the overflowing fullness of his twitching member stretching her cunt to its limit left her toes curling and her neck craning in her own release. It dragged down from the head of her womb to her gut, echoing out and leaving her body a twitching, spasming mess.

The brute had creampied her and it had made her _cum_. Maybe Katarina really was little better than something to get his dick wet, because she sure as hell enjoyed it. It occurred to her that it might’ve been a bad idea to wrap her legs around his waist if she _didn’t_ want him to cum inside. Oops. One of these days, that was going to get them in trouble...

And yet, in spite of the fact that he’d rather insensitively flooding her womb, Caius was still atop her, tenderly rubbing the cheek he’d grabbed while he kept his lips on hers, sighing into her mouth. Perhaps there was more to him than she assumed. Or maybe being fucked so raw had left her feeling sickeningly romantic, and once she got out from under him she’d get right back to her senses.

Yeah, that sounded better.

* * *

_She fell back onto the bed with a crash, her hands undoing her top to expose her breasts as Caius stripped himself down. _

_They’d found the first excuse they could to get out of the training room. High on the adrenaline coursing through their veins, flush with the energy and the thought that tomorrow would bring the danger of death, it hadn’t taken much for flirting to turn to groping and then to getting naked, and now here they were in her room._

_Soldiers didn’t get individual accommodations, but du Couteau family members did. Lucky for Caius. Katarina was loathe to admit it, but she wouldn't have minded an audience: not because she enjoyed the idea of others witnessing her naked and fucked, but because she was so eager to get dicked down that she didn't think she'd have the patience to wait till she was alone with him before escalating even further. She'd managed, though, and now…_

_"You think you're the best, don't you?" She teased, shuffling out of her leggings while Caius kept disrobing. _

_"Of course not. I _know_ I am." He grinned, undoing his belt and casting aside his shirt._

_"Don't get cocky. You're the only dick around that seems to be worth a damn, so…" Katarina trailed off as Caius revealed his endowment, his pants pulled down such that it sprung out into the open. _

_He was...to put it simply, Caius had a _big_ dick, long and heavy and swaying back and forth as he grew more erect. When it rose, his nuts came into view, two fat orbs swollen with the future cumloads that promised to spew out of that thick cockhead. Her mouth hung open and she tried to match her planned taunting with the reality in front of her. That wasn’t a cock: that was a proper bitchbreaker, meant to shatter the mind and will of whatever person found themselves wrapped around it. Already Katarina felt a compulsion to lean forward and plant the tenderest, most reverential kiss upon that throbbing shaft, letting it know just how much of a hold it had over her.  
_

_Her hand came up to her mouth, as much to stop herself from falling prey to Caius’s cock as to disguise her drooling. It didn’t help—the saliva dripped down her lower lip onto her chin in spite of it—but it let her feel protected, if just for a moment. As it continued to grow in size, swelling with arousal and the sight of her bafflement, Katarina’s eyes bugged out and her face flushed a deep crimson, blood pounding in her ears as her gaze remained fixed on that turgid emblem of perfection. _

_Yes, Caius’s cock was a towering monument to manhood, and it was the secret trigger that set off Katarina’s adoration for the man, in spite of his insufferable devil-may-care approach to her authority. She’d overlook his sniping and teasing and joking, so long as at the end of the day, she could be near that perfect dick. Images flashed through her head of being broken and brought down, made to serve such magnificence, to take it as deep as she could in all her holes over and over, to see those lusciously hefty balls give her the cream that would make her a mother. Would she be a matriarch, brought high through the births she nurtured, or a servant, a slave kept around to milk her master’s loads and occasionally enjoy his actual attention while bringing his bastards into the world? _

_For a terrible moment, Katarina didn’t know which she’d prefer. Or even whether or not it was worth persisting as she was now, pursuing neither option._

_“Fuck…” Katarina couldn’t make herself speak, her tongue seizing up in her mouth, urging her to lick and taste and partake. _

_“Yes?” Caius’s smug grin loomed over her, self-satisfied and confident in what he saw. She must’ve been quite a sight, glassy-eyed and drooling over a dick that hadn’t even touched her. He carried himself with the confidence that told her that he’d seen this before. “Is something wrong?”_

_“…” She tried again, unable to speak. It was a struggle, but she managed to look away from that hypnotic shaft, turning her gaze fully at his face, trying to focus on his proud eyes and eager smile. Clearly, he rather liked seeing women struck dumb by his heavy member. _

_The thought broke the spell. She would not be another notch in his record, another conquest for him to carry forward while leaving her behind. Whether or not that was actually what he had in mind, or had a history of, was irrelevant: she had an image in her mind, and would not be dissuaded from it. Katarina scowled, her hot breath on his tremulous cock, and reached out to cup his balls in her palm._

_“Not a thing, Caius. Now shut up and give me this dick.”_

_“As you wish.” Any further comments were sidelined by a hiss as she lowered her mouth to his dick, slurping on the shaft before taking it between her lips, letting it sit on her tongue, heavy and salty and slick with precum and her drool. She tried not to look too entranced, but it was hard: Caius, standing by the edge of the bed as she swallowed more of him, reached a hand out to rest on her head as she let more of his enthralling dick into her mouth. She batted it away, scowling around the dick that kept sinking into her throat. He didn’t get to do that. Not yet, anyway. This was about her wanting his cock, not anything touchy-feely, and the sooner he got that, the sooner they could get to the good stuff._

_“Have I offended?” Still that _fucking_ smirk. She would’ve spat out his shaft to give him a piece of her mind if it wasn’t so fulfilling to keep sucking on it. Especially since she’d taken it to the base with a gulp and a grunt, her nose pressing into his blonde pubic hair while she gagged on his shaft. No matter: she’d keep him on his toes as much as she could._

_She squeezed down on his balls, feeling them twitch and throb beneath her touch extending her other hand to touch his thigh while she spread her lips to let her teeth drag along his dick as she withdrew her mouth. The vacancy his shaft left behind with simultaneously comforting and deeply unsatisfying: she had less girth plugging her throat, but at the same time she wasn’t going to fool herself into thinking that taking him down to the base wasn’t something to be proud of. And Caius’s cock was certainly a better thing to be choking on than much of anything else, filling her mouth and throat with the salty taste of his dick and precum and assault her nose with scents of sweat and musk, born of their battle. _

_It took all her focus to keep her mind from melting and falling back onto worship of that dick, devoting herself solely to milking it with her mouth and throat and lips. She did, but it wasn’t easy, and she had to let his dick slide out of her mouth with a shlicking sound, leaving her coughing and spitting and trying to regain her breath._

_“You...hrk!...Fuck!” She wiped her chin and cheek with the hand that had been on his thigh, still kneading his balls. “Hell, Caius...be careful with that thing!”_

_“My apologies.” He grinned, reaching down to stroke her cheek. She frowned and leaned away, moving onto her back and spreading her legs to reveal her glistening folds and bright red pubic hair. _

_“Yeah, yeah, I’m sure. Now hurry up and return the favor, before I change my mind.” The tautness in Katarina’s legs betrayed her excitement, but Caius played along, shaking his head as he crawled onto the bed with her._

_“All in good time. Wouldn’t want to spoil this, after all.”_

_She prepared a retort, but when he grabbed her thighs and hoisted himself into position, leaning forward to plant a kiss on her clit, she bit back her response in favor of suppressing her shudder. Caius was a smug bastard, but he dove right into eating her out like a proper gentleman, escalating from little caresses of his lips to a tickling tongue, trailing and circling her clit and labia, each motion eliciting little hisses and quivers from Katarina. She wants to put up a strong and silent front and not give him the satisfaction of watching her react to him, to maintain what little hold she can on the situation._

_Then he stuffed his tongue into her cunt, grips her thighs more tightly in his grip, and draged the muscle along the top of her tunnel._

_Katarina yelped and squirmed, hands tangling in his yellow hair and thighs aching to press against the sides of his head. Her lips twitched and pursed, a blush blossoming across her cheeks while she clenched her teeth in a futile effort to stop it all. His mirthful eyes told her that she was making an utter fool of herself as expressions danced across her face. _

_He smiled and went at her harder, swirling his tongue around within her in an effort to break the fragile concentration she had built up, leaving her awash in warmth and heavy, weighty pressure jutting up into and alongside her inner walls. Caius had a dextrous tongue, and he knew how to use it, knew when to flatten and press or curl and drag, and Katarina had to be making a veritable theater’s worth of faces by now, cringing and wheezing and gasping and moaning. The only thing that felt tenser and warmer than her face was her slit, encroached upon with more and more pressure and stimulation and wonderful, slick movement. _

_Caius’s grin left his lips brushing against her bush as he buried his tongue in deeper, undulating and writhing the muscle to work her as many ways as he could, reaching recesses that she’d neglected during her frequent, frenzied masturbation sessions. _

_Katarina could have held out, if she had the focus. If she had the will. If she had the strength. But surrender wasn’t just easier: it was what she wanted, deep down. So instead of clenching her thighs and teeth, trying to bottle up the energy inside, she simply...let go. Her relaxation melted into release, her cunt spasming and spurting onto his face while wet heat suffused her body in waves with each twitch of her limbs. Even with his mouth locked onto her convulsing slit to drink in her orgasm, Caius was able look up at her face between her swaying breasts as she rode out her orgasm against his tongue. The redness flashing across her face, the heaving of her stomach and the kicking of her legs were all communicating the tension being loosened all across her body, right through her clenching cunt._

_“I see you enjoyed yourself.” Caius murmured, wiping his face on the inside of Katarina’s thigh as he stood up. “I’ll take that more as a credit to my tongue, and less as a mark against your stamina.”_

_“Shut the fuck up, asshole.” Katarina spat, shame and relief in equal measure coursing through her mind. She hated being beaten like this, but this was all too...it was all too much _fun_. It also meant that what happened here couldn’t leave this room, lest she be a laughingstock. “Fuck me already, if you’ve got the guts.”_

_“I don’t think guts are what you’re looking for, unless this is going to take a turn for the morbid.” He stood up, scooping her into his arms and hoisting her with his hands on her ass, positioning her above his waiting, eager cockhead. She wrapped her fingers around the back of his neck and his shoulder, locking her legs around his waist while the head of his cock prodded her folds. “But if you mean what I _think_ you do, then…”_

_Caius trailed off, grinning, and jerked his head forward to kiss Katarina before she could stop him. Her eyes widened, but as she tried to lean back, he thrust forward and pulled her down in one motion, plunging her onto his dick and leaving her moaning into his mouth. Her lips crashed against his, slippery with spit and perspiration while the force of his movement left her breasts swaying and pressing against his chest, the soft globes pillowing up against his skin while his girth pressed forward hurriedly into her slit, heedless of the hot, tight grip trying to restrain it. Katarina had been fucked before, but never by such a big dick, and certainly never while being carried freely like this. The alien sensation, combined with the familiar comfort of being stuffed with cock left her panting and whining into his mouth, giving voice to her pleasure as much as the kiss would allow. _

_The idea of breaking away was far from Katarina’s mind: all she could do, all she _wanted_ to do was take everything Caius had to give her. So she did, clutching him tightly with her arms and her pussy, holding herself upright with the former and milking his dick with the latter. Her slit was wet, slice vice around him, the bearing down of her protesting pussy giving him as much pleasure as the renewed tightness enhanced her own sense of being so utterly _filled_. It was hard to tell, but she was sucking him in as much as he was pushing forward into her cunt, both gripping powerfully enough to coax cum out of him as well as giving him the space to fuck her furiously. _

_Still, Caius gave her time to adjust as he slid into her, adjusting his fingers to avoid dropping her. Her skin was slippery with sweat, but Caius wasn’t even struggling: he lifted bardiches that weighed as much as she did on a regular basis, after all, and her subterfuge required her to shed as much weight as she could. To a knight like him, Katarina was nothing. Or at least weighed nothing, for she certainly was worth quite a bit. By her judgement, she was worth the humiliation Caius had nearly faced of cutting off his own hand, and the enthusiasm with which Caius began to pound her once he was hilted told her that she’d judged well. _

_She finally had the focus to break the kiss, but instead of telling him off for his bold action, Katarina moaned and swore and bit her lip, suppressing a scream of joy or the high, keening whine that she knew she was capable of at her most vulgar and carnal. Looking down gave her a view of their chests pressing together, of his dick plunging out and into her between her cleavage, so she looked up to meet his bright blue eyes, turning her attention away from the power being brought to bear on her nethers. It wasn’t easy, but she managed, and the urge to let go of her mind around his cock withered, if just a little._

_His eyes traced over her form, at her swinging tits and shining stomach and trembling arms, all heralding struggle and unraveling will. Katarina’s tongue lolled out of her mouth, and her words became clearer as he jerked his cock into her hard enough that his balls slapped her asscheeks._

_“Don’t you dare stop _fucking_ me, you stupid…” She wheezed and coughed, pressing her forehead to his to force him to look at her. “Don’t you fucking _ever _let up.”_

_“Wasn’t...wasn’t planning to.” Caius grunted, more from the effort to hold back his building orgasm than any true difficulty bearing her weight. _

_“You’re holding back, Caius. Running out of steam?”_

_“N...never.” He punctuated his affirmation with a swivel of his hips with his full length buried in her, grinding his pelvis crotch against her thighs while his shaft throbbed and pulsed and slide against her folds._

_“Then hurry the fuck up. I’m a big girl. I can take whatever you got.” Katarina wanted to believe that was true, but when the uneven-but-deep rhythm of his movement became a furiously rapid assault upon her cunt, she had equal parts reason to doubt and delight. The turgidity and pounding, all-encompassing thrusting was becoming more than she could handle, and Katarina knew that there was no reason to fear a little submission so long as she paid it back in kind. Throwing her head away from him, Katarina shrieked and came, undulating and spasming on the magnificent dick that she was speared on, dragging her nails across his shoulders as the gripping down down on his cock intensified. _

_“Kat…” He hissed, hands struggling to find purchase on her sweaty skin. It was clear enough what he was going to say, but Katarina didn’t know that he was planning on just...unloading. But he did, her cunt flooding with warmth as he hosed her insides white with his load, hot cum splashing up into her nethers. And he kept going, creaming Katarina’s tight, willing hole as much as his balls were willing to give up. _

_“Wait, no—” Katarina’s words were cut off with another spurt of cum, the flash of heat setting her off-balance and unable to properly articulate her shock. Caius had just cum inside of her, unprotected, right up into her womb, and he hadn’t even asked her what she thought of the idea._

_A part of her hated it, that insensitivity and brash recklessness. It left room for unexpected consequences and mistakes, and she wasn’t in the business of allowing errors._

_But as the warmth of his load soaked into her cunt, oozing out onto the floor around his dick, Katarina was also quite aware of how much _fun_ it could be to get creampied. Maybe, just maybe, she could work with this._

* * *

Every time she told herself she wouldn’t do it again, it happened anyway.

Once, he'd dragged her into the trees on the way back from campaign, pulling down her pants and thrusting into her cunt without so much as a by-your leave. He lay into her, pressing her face against the bark and digging his fingers into her soft ass while she grunted and held back her cries at being so wonderfully pounded, and he had the absolute _gall_ to kiss her after wiping his dick with her hair when they were done and she was stuffed full of his cum, oozing it onto the grass. Her anger might’ve been more justified if she hadn’t kissed him right back, too.

Another time, she’d gotten the drop on him, wrapping her naked legs around his head after leaping on him from the ceiling of his bunk, not letting him free of her thighs till he overcame his shock and paid tribute to her muff. Once he’d sucked her clit and slurped her cunt and licked her till she was overwhelmed with warmth and pressure and completion and she enjoyed a trembling, tenuous orgasm while sitting on his shoulders as he stood, she let him free with a smirk and a slap on his butt.

And then there was when he caught her when she was attempting such a trap. She’d been at his mercy, then, and he’d locked his hands beneath her arms and behind her head in a hold, fucking her standing while her legs kicked uselessly at the air in front of her and her tongue lolled out of her mouth. He’d cum inside her then, too, then laid her gently down on the floor and stroked her cheek.

That time in particular, she watched him pay special attention to her scar. She pushed him away when he tried to rub it with his thumb, and he frowned.

“Is something the matter?”

“Don’t be stupid. I know it’s ugly. You don’t have to point it out. I like your dick, but that doesn’t mean you can be an asshole without me telling you off.” Katarina folded her arms over her chest as if it _wasn’t_ sweaty from being fucked in a wrestling struggle, trying to retain some dignity.

His features softened. “Ah. You misunderstand me.”

“I’m sure I don’t. Whatever snide comment you have in mind, I—”

“I think it’s cute.”

Katarina blinked and opened her mouth to speak, perhaps to challenge his claim, but he silenced her with his thumb on her lip, his index rubbing her scar.

“It’s a mark of duty, of experience. Of power. You earned it, and paid it back far more to Noxus’s favor. You should be proud, Katarina.” Before she could recoil, Caius leaned forward and kissed her blemish, feathering his lips along the line in her skin.

Katarina’s rebuke died in her throat. Just this once, maybe she’d allow him his little game of attachment. Maybe.

All right, probably. Definitely.

* * *

She called him an asshole, and still crawled on her hands and knees to him when he demanded, begging for more of his shaft and for more chances to worship his fat nuts.

She acted like a bitch, and still let him smack her face with his meaty dick while she panted and whined.

She lashed out at him whenever she could, and still let him shove his cock between her tits and fuck them until her face and chest was coated in seed.

She targeted him with her dirtiest, most painful tricks in training, and still bent over to let him plow open her asshole, her back muscles tensing with his movement atop and inside her while he dug his fingers into her butt until her rear was flooded with cum.

She sneered and insulted and raged, and still let him pull her hair and smack her ass and grope her tits while seething all the while with her conflicting attraction and fury, unable to manage where she wanted her energy to go.

She turned her nose up at his pleasantries on the battlefield and in the training room, and still took the time to cuddle with him when he was done boring into her and pumping her womb full of spunk.

Things were complicated, but it was the most fun Katarina had ever had.

* * *

It eventually dawned on her that whenever he got the chance, despite her weak protests, Caius _always_ came inside her, emptying his nuts into her cunt no matter how many times she asked him not to. No matter how many times he promised he wouldn't, or how furiously she demanded that he stop, Caius always ended up "forgetting" or ignoring her while he gave her massive, furious, flooding creampies, filling her womb to the brim as frequently as he could, often doing so multiple times each session. She thought he might’ve been doing it to piss her off, to get back at her for her high-minded snobbishness or victories against him in bouts, but after doing some digging on his family, she came to another, rather more practical conclusion.

House Siegfried needed heirs, and Caius was its scion and only son. The du Couteaus were an old and illustrious family, and attachment to her line would give not only prestige, but unify of Noxus’s expressions of power. Politicking, subterfuge, assassination and raw military might under one roof would be strong indeed...and dangerous. Caius was trying to pre-empt his enemies, and gain a new ally by solidifying the ties to one he already had.

She could try to convince herself that her plan was in the interest of making sure that no other family got the chance to go for it. That no stray tart or strumpet would bear Siegfried’s heir, elevating her own family at the expense of the du Couteaus. If she could’ve reduced it to politics, then that would’ve made it easier.

The truth was more difficult. Ordinarily, this duty would fall to Cassiopeia, but she wasn’t even sure if her sister could _have_ children anymore. There was no shortage of interested folk who were willing to risk constriction and venom to try, but it wasn’t a good investment. If Katarina delayed, there was a chance the du Couteaus could lose it all.

And when it came to potential partners, Caius was far from the worst. Sure, he was insufferably smug and so quick to joke that she wondered if he could take _anything_ seriously, and he oscillated between affection and rough domineering, but, well…

All right. Katarina knew that he was flawed, heavily so, as was everyone. But Caius had also shown himself capable of great kindness, of affection and attachment, and he embodied Noxian ideals more than almost anyone else she knew, save for those at the very top.

So the next time he slammed her into the sheets of her bed, pounding her fiercely enough to leave her wailing and clawing at his back, she knew what she’d do.

Caius seemed to suspect nothing, groping and kneading her tits as his cock plunging in and out of her, spreading her cunt wide around its girth before drawing back and leaving her feeling empty and aching. Katarina’s hands were on her clit, stroking and rubbing herself furiously. She’d already cum twice, squeezing his dick in the tight sleeve of her pussy, but Caius was showing greater restraint than usual. She’d have to urge him on.

“Whatever you do,” she panted, fixing him with a fierce glare, “_don’t_ cum in me. I don’t know how many times it’s going to take to get that into your head, you dense moron, but don’t fucking do it. Just this once. _Please_.”

She tried to inject some begging into her final words, her eyes softening and her lip quivering in a pout, and Caius furrowed his brow, his dilemma plain on his face. She’d asked him before to not empty his balls into her womb...but she’d never begged. That was new.

“All right.” He conceded, sighing. “This once. Because you begged, Kitty Kat.” Now he was just rubbing it in, using the nickname he knew she hated, but Katarina didn’t let her annoyance slip. Instead, she threw her head back and moaned her gratitude, thrusting her chest out for him to play with, and he dived in with gusto. His pounding sped up, intensifying faster and harder, the usual acceleration that signalled his approaching release. She’d have to time this well.

He grunted, a split-second warning before he started to withdraw, intending for the first time to not empty his nuts inside her cunt when he was fucking it, only for Katarina to lock her legs around his waist, snapping them shut, pulling him back, and holding him inside.

“Noxus needs strong children, dear. Don’t be a coward.” Katarina flashed a triumphant grin, winked, and kept him deep. He was too close to stop his orgasm, too shocked to force himself free of her, and she was rewarded with the warm flood of cum into her. His balls strained, driven even more than usual to vacate their load inside a warm, wet, tight and most of all _fertile_ hole. Caius’s thick cream found fine purchase within her, gifting her with the fattest, most virile cumshot he’d yet delivered. The spike of heat, along with the knowledge that she’d at last bested him, was just what Katarina needed to enjoy one more quivering, spasming, mind-clouding gushing around his cock, and she accepted it with all the grace and fury she could muster.

When Caius finally regained his senses, he laughed and kissed her, and Katarina didn’t smirk or scowl or push him away, letting him drape himself atop her, sweaty and tired and, most of all, happy. She’d been plugged with his load too many times now for her to _not_ be pregnant, and perhaps one day it’d be made more obvious.

Until they, they might as well keep trying. Katarina du Couteau would never stop fighting, but bearing children was but a temporary setback to her duties as an assassin, and required a strength all on its own. She would never be a matron, relegated to estate management and politicking, but a little diversion into motherhood at the behest of a man like Caius Siegfried sounded like a grand thing indeed.


End file.
